


The Boy Who Cried Cat

by InTheShadows



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus Draco Malfoy, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Cat Draco Malfoy, Crack Treated Seriously, Draco Malfoy Does What He Wants, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Exasperated Harry, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Harry Potter Angst, Harry Potter Has Issues, Harry is So Done, Harry's obsession with Malfoy, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Humor, Lucius Malfoy - Freeform, M/M, Minerva McGonagall - Freeform, Narcissa Black Malfoy - Freeform, No Horcruxes, Severus Snape - Freeform, Trust Issues, no one believes him, or Harry thinks he is, so is everyone else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 06:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheShadows/pseuds/InTheShadows
Summary: Harry isn't expecting much from this year, considering what his last five have been like. Each year just keeps getting worse. This one is looking no better - Voldemort is back, everyone finally knows it and the War is raging on. What he didn't expect is for Malfoy, in cat form, to attach himself to Harry. Or for no one to believe him about it. Hedoesexpect Malfoy to act like an annoying git, so at least there's that. Why is it always him?





	The Boy Who Cried Cat

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppose to be a light, cracky story when I first thought of it. Harry is followed around by a cat that he thinks is Malfoy ( ~~that _is_ Malfoy~~ ) but no one believes him. Hahaha. But then Harry bled all his feels all over it and it turned out to be more serious than a crack fic should. Because 'Harry Potter Angst' is one of the most in character tags we have (besides 'Oblivious Harry Potter' that is). Story is right on the border of pre-slash or gen and thus can be read either way. Anyone who is familiar with my stories obviously knows which one I pick, but to each their own.  
>  ~~Dedicated to my own nutty thing, who inspired this. Because yes, I know how to walk around with a cat on my shoulders. It's as fun as it sounds.~~

Like most things in Harry's life, it started with Malfoy. Most _non lethal_ things, that is.

Ever since he first entered the Wizarding World, his life seemed to revolve around two things. Two people, rather – Voldemort and Malfoy. Voldemort was the dangerous part of his life. The part that was out to kill him. Malfoy, on the other hand, was the annoying part. The part that tried to drive him out of his mind _before_ he was killed.

Ron and Hermione complain that he is obsessed with Malfoy, but they don't understand. Even when he explained this to them – the way his life is divided – they don't get it. Hermione rolls her eyes and tells him he's 'reading too much into it, really Harry'. Ron just tells him 'once a git, always a git' and 'sure whatever you say mate' then changes the subject. They don't understand and to be honest, Harry isn't sure how to make them understand.

He's never been good at verbalizing his thoughts to begin with. For the longest time, he was never allowed to verbalize them period. It's not as if the Dursleys wanted to hear what he thought. Do his chores and pretend he doesn't exist. Those were the first eleven years of his life. Is it any wonder he has some issues?

He has no idea how to tell them that this rivalry with Malfoy makes him feel normal. For one thing, he is allowed to _fight back_ when he confronts him. More than that, it's actually expected of him. He doesn't have to take it lying down. No more eyes to the floor and mouth shut. No. Before Malfoy, fighting back was never an option.

For another thing, he and Malfoy aren't rivals because of the war or because he is the Boy-Who-Lived or any of that. All of that came later. At first they were just a couple of stupid kids who didn't get along. Harry thinks Malfoy is a spoiled git. Malfoy thinks Harry is a dumb arse. Sure the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry didn't help them any, but it was before that. It was because Malfoy reminded him too much of Dudley for Harry to stand.

Now it's evolved. The war has changed that. The war has changed everything. Slowly but surely it is taking over Harry's life and there is nothing he can do to stop it. They are no longer school children bickering. Now they are soldiers preparing for the fight. It's enough to make him scream. The one thing that made him feel like 'just Harry' is gone.

He feels rubbed raw. With everything that has happened last year – Sirius and Umbridge and Voldemort invading his mind – he feels ready to come apart at the seams. The Dursleys didn't help either. Not that they ever do. But ever since they were warned to leave him alone, they have. Literally. They didn't interact with him at all this summer. It made him feel like a ghost. Some days he honestly questioned if he existed or not. Add the nightmares and just about everything is enough to make him scream frankly.

And it's not going to get any better either. Sure at Hogwarts he'll have his friends again. But he'll also have the war. There's no denying that it's real anymore. Everyone knows that Voldemort is back. The only bright side to last year.

It's added pressure, though, too. Sure the Order and the other adults tell him that the war isn't his responsibility yet. That he is still a child, he can't fight yet. He should enjoy his childhood while he can. What a joke. As if he hasn't been fighting Voldemort since he was eleven. As if he hasn't been fighting since the day he was left on the Dursleys doorstep. He's never had a childhood. He never will. No one will let him.

It's all empty words. They say this isn't his fight, but that's a lie. There is a prophecy that quite plainly says either Voldemort or him. And even if there wasn't, he has taken everything from Harry – his parents, his childhood, his guarantee of a future, his safety in the present, his Godfather somewhat. Hell, even his career. He may have gotten the advice from a Death Eater, but that doesn't mean he's wrong.

He is good at Defense. It is his best subject. It _has_ to be his best subject. His life literally depends on it. Sure he likes it and it comes naturally, but that isn't why he's so good. He's good at it because he wants to live. Maybe not all the time. Maybe there are times it gets to be too much. But he wants to live.

All he has ever wanted was a normal life. But the scar on his head is enough to kill that dream. Because even as they tell him it isn't his fight, they lie. People look at him and see a symbol. They look at him and see their Saviour.

Even before Voldemort came back, they looked at him like he was something special. He was their hero. He was a boy put up on a pedestal. They worshiped and vilified him at will. Now that Voldemort is back, they look at him to save them.

He is their hero. His life choices are set in their mind. His career choice is obviously an Auror because that is a hero's job. He is good at Defense, it is perfect for him. He is their Saviour, their symbol, maybe even their lamb. He doesn't have a choice. Not if he wants to live. Not if he wants to win this war.

Too bad he has never wanted to be a hero. Life has just taught him differently.

He's learned that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. Not even if you want it done right, but if you want it done at all. Adults aren't to be trusted. Adults will either worship you, depend on you or cuddle you, shooing you away from the things that need to be done. None of them will ever see you for what you really are.

Kids his own age are only marginally better. All they care about are unimportant things – homework and romance and gossip. Normal teenage things. Things Harry would _like_ to care about, but can't. They have trouble seeing things the way he does. They haven't seen the evil of the world yet. It may be a good thing, for them, but that doesn't make them any easier to get along with.

His friends will do anything for him. He knows that. He doesn't doubt that in the least. They are loyal and they will stand by him, come what may. That doesn't mean that they understand him though. Not really. Not enough sometimes.

He knows he can be over emotional and impulsive. He knows himself that well at least. Thinking before acting isn't always his forte. And he has a temper. Sometimes he wonders how much of it is his and how much of it is Voldemort's, but that is beside the point. He still has to deal with it, no matter the origins. And he's not the best at studying, but, well. That is an issue he avoids thinking about when he can. He hates thinking about the Dursleys when he doesn't have to.

Point is, he knows he has his faults. He knows he's not perfect. His friends love them, despite them. They call him out on them. But that doesn't mean he always wants to hear them. Sometimes he just needs to blow off steam instead of being lectured.

Everything is coming to a head now. The pressure is building every day. It's enough that Harry thinks it just might crush him. The war is taking everything from him and he doesn't know how to stop it.

That's why Malfoy is so important to him. He is a constant. A normal constant. A nonlethal one. Having a school boy rivalry is so normal it's almost required. And now that is being taken from him too. He doesn't have to like Malfoy to feel as if he is losing him. Things will change now. Especially with his Dad in Azkaban, things will change.

And all of this, this feeling and need and tension, he can't explain that to his friends. They would think he is mental. Or more mental than he already is. There would be pitying looks or ones of confusion. He can't handle that. Not now, not when everything else is falling apart.

Can't he have one thing to himself?

The answer is no of course. He is the Boy-Who-Lived. He doesn't get a choice. He's had that taken from him long ago.

:::

Harry is curled up on his seat, waiting for Ron and Hermione to join him, when he hears a noise at the door. Thinking it's likely another student, he ignores it at first. But when it continues, more insistent, he gets up with a sigh and opens the door. A cat rushes in and jumps onto the seat.

“Hello there,” Harry says in surprise. Not what he was expecting, but he certainly isn't complaining. The last thing he wants to deal with are people right now. But then he takes a closer look at the cat an reconsiders.

It's fur is blonde and it blinks up at him with big silver eyes. _Very_ familiar gray eyes. Just like the fur is a _very_ familiar shade of blonde. “Malfoy,” he says in annoyance, “don't you have anything better to do

than show off like an annoying git?”

Malfoy just blinks at him.

Harry glares at him. Now most people's first assumption probably wouldn't be to assume a cat they just met is really another witch or wizard. Harry wouldn't be either, if it weren't for his coloring. But it's hardly out of the realm of possibilities either. Magic seems to make everything crazy. That was what he thought at age eleven and that's what he thinks now. Magic has a way of turning everything logical on its head.

Besides, it's not the worst conclusion he could have come to. Just look at his Dad and Sirius. They became animangi at age fifteen. It's clearly possible to become one young. And McGonagall is a cat animagus herself. So he doesn't feel stupid at all staring a cat down.

Well, only a little bit stupid, but Malfoy has a habit of making him feel that way when he's in human form, so he ignores it. “Out,” he orders.

Malfoy doesn't move.

“Who are you talking to mate?” Ron asks as he and Hermione walk in through the still open door.

“Malfoy is just being a git again,” Harry rolls his eyes and points.

There is a pause. “Um, mate, that's a cat,” Ron says.

Hermione huffs. “Honestly Harry, not already. The year hasn't even started yet. Can't you at least wait until we get to Hogwarts before you start your obsession again?”

“It's not an obsession,” Harry denies, hoping the blush on his cheeks isn't visible, “it's a rivalry. And why do you think it's so ridiculous? Just look at him. Clearly it's Malfoy.”

Both Ron and Hermione look down and stare. Malfoy stares back challengingly. Good to know his expressions still translate as a cat.

“Looks like a cat to me,” Ron says matter of fact.

Harry resists the urge to throw his hands into the air.

“And anyways Harry, it can't be Malfoy. He's been missing since June,” Hermione informs him.

“What?” Harry asks incredulously.

Hermione nods as Ron closes the door. Harry sits down and Malfoy jumps into his lap. Harry glares and tries to push him off, but the git digs his claws into Harry's leg. “Ow,” he complains, “ fine. I get the picture. Never knew you wanted to sit on my lap this bad,” he can't help but tease.

Malfoy starts purring and butting his head at Harry's hand.

“Oh now you're just being ridiculous,” he says, “You really think I'm going to give in so that you can make fun of me when you change back?”

Hermione huffs. “It's been all over the Daily Prophet, Witches Weekly, everywhere. His Mother reported him missing after he didn't come down for breakfast one morning. She searched everywhere and even the House Elves couldn't find him. She called the Aurors then. They've been searching all over. Everyone suspects foul play.”

“And this on top of the Azkaban breakout and the Death Eater attacks. The Ministry is going mad trying to cover everything. There's a worry someone took Malfoy for revenge,” Ron continues, “Dad hears all about it, even down in his Department. He vanished without a trace.”

“Well he's not missing now,” Harry says dryly, “Mystery solved.”

There is another awkward pause. “Pretty sure the Aurors will want a human Malfoy, not a cat one.”

He shrugs. “There are spells for that, aren't there? And why are you looking at me like that anyways? It is possible.”

“Possible yes,” Hermione agrees, “Probable, no.”

Harry looks at them. “Shall I recap all our experiences with animangi?” he asks pointedly.

“That's different though,” Ron tells him.

“Different how?” he demands.

“Different because it doesn't involve Malfoy,” Hermione informs him, “You are hardly unbiased when it comes to the subject. You have to admit that.”

“Will you stop making it sound bad?” Harry asks angrily, “Or do you _want_ me to get mocked when Malfoy turns back? You know he's going to take everything we say and use it against us.”

They look at Malfoy, who is contentedly purring in Harry's lap and give him a doubtful look.

“Oh shove off,” he mutters. So much for support. He should have known they wouldn't believe him. But it's so obvious, how could they not? Malfoy has the exact same hair/fur color _and_ the same eye color. Plus a cat fits his personality perfectly – spoiled and entitled. It all makes sense. But do they believe him? Of course not.

He's never letting them live this down when it turns out he's right.

An awkward silence descends and its almost a blessing to get Slughorn's summon. Not that he's looking forward to it in particularly. Slughorn gave him the creeps when Dumbledore took him to meet him. He felt like a bug under glass being examined.

He gets up, displacing Malfoy off of his lap. Finally. But instead of running away like he should, he jumps up and clings to his torso. “Hey,” Harry protests, having no choice but to hold onto him. “Haven't you had enough fun by now?” He tries to get him to release his death grip, but it's no use. Malfoy only digs his claws in deeper. “Fine then, you can come,” he gives in, “Slughorn seems like your kind of person anyways.” He marches out, ignoring his friends stare.

Fortunately, when he gets there, he has friends already there. Neville and Ginny are already seated. He smiles and goes to sit next to them.

“Hi Harry,” Neville greets quietly.

“Hey Nev,” he says.

“And what am I?” Ginny asks, mock glaring.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Hi Gin, long time no see right?”

“Forever and a year,” she says cheerfully, “long enough for you to suddenly get a cat.”

“Ugh, it's just Malfoy,” he complains.

“You named your cat Malfoy?” Ginny asks, looking like she wants to laugh.

“No,” he denies, “I mean it's _actually_ Malfoy. He came into my compartment and hasn't left me alone since.”

“Um, Harry,” Neville starts.

“I know,” Harry cuts him off, “Malfoy has been missing since June. Ron and Mione have already told me. I don't see why it's so hard to believe though.”

“Everyone is really worried,” Neville says, “No one is saying it – yet – but they're worried it's Voldemort.”

That sends an unpleasant jolt down Harry's spine. He never thought of that. Could this be revenge for Lucius failing to get the prophecy? “Then why call the Aurors?” he asks.

“Appearances?” Ginny guesses, shrugging.

“Maybe Lady Malfoy is scared,” Neville suggests.

“Maybe,” Harry says to both of them. That does put a new light on things. Could it be that Malfoy is hiding? That he doesn't want Voldemort to find him? But then why is he attaching himself to Harry? A nip at his hand answers that question. Oh right, because Malfoy is a git, no matter what form he's in.

Slughorn starts the meeting then, so they can't talk anymore. It's just as uncomfortable as Harry suspected it would be. Maybe more so. If Harry felt like a bug before, now he feels like a butterfly with its wings pinned down.

When they leave, Harry feels like he desperately needs a shower. “That was uncomfortable,” he says.

Neville frowns. “I don't think he likes me very much.”

“Count your blessings,” Harry tells him, “That means you won't have to deal with him anymore.” When that doesn't cheer him up he adds, “He doesn't know what he's missing Nev. Personally, I know you're brilliant.”

“You do?” Neville asks hopefully.

“Of course I do. I've seen your way with your wand remember?”

“Yeah. Gran was real proud of me too. She even took me to get my own wand.” Neville pulls it out.

“Wow, that's great Nev. How does it work for you?”

“Much better than my old one,” he answers ruefully.

“Well I think it's about time she sees how awesome you are,” Ginny says fiercely.

“Thanks Gin,” Neville blushes.

They part ways, Harry going back to Ron and Hermione and Neville and Ginny going back to Luna. All the while Malfoy still insists on clinging to him. Harry sighs. This is going to be a long year. He can tell already.

:::

Harry is proven right in his assumption when he arrives. Everyone seems to notice Malfoy and nobody seems to believe that it's him. No one. He's tempted to shove him off on the Slytherins and have them deal with him. Surely they will recognize their own Housemate when they see him. He would too, if only Malfoy would _let go_ of him.

The only thing that changes is that he moves from Harry's torso to Harry's neck when he demanded Malfoy move so he could eat. The git climbed up and curled himself around as if he is a bloody scarf or something. He lays up there, smug as can be and demands Harry feed him the fish a House Elf brought for him. Unbelievable.

It doesn't take him long to get a summons to the Headmaster's office, which makes him undeniably relieved. Dumbledore will believe him. He will straighten this out. When he arrives, he sees McGonagall has already joined him. Even better – she's a cat animagus herself.

He pushes away the voice in his head that says it won't matter. They won't believe him. They never do.

“Potter,” she nods.

“Professor,” he greets.

“Harry my boy,” Dumbledore beams at him. “I trust everything is fine since we last spoke. Nothing unexpected?”

Harry shakes his head, assuming he is asking if Harry has had anymore visions. “No Sir, everything has been fine.”

“Good, good. Lemon drop?” he offers.

“No thank you Headmaster, I'm full.”

“Excellent. A growing boy like you needs his energy after all,” his eyes twinkle, “Now, I've been hearing some odd things about your new friend here,” he says, still smiling.

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes. “He's not my friend Headmaster, he's Malfoy.”

Dumbledore nods, “So I've heard. I'm sure everyone will be relieved that he's been found. I must say it's remarkable that you managed to do in one day what the Aurors have been trying months to do.”

Something about that statement makes Harry vaguely nervous. It's not the words, or his expression or even his tone of voice. But there is something in those words that sets him on edge. “You do believe me, don't you Headmaster?”

“Of course my boy. I know you have good instincts.”

Harry almost relaxes at that, but not quite. He can hear the unspoken words coming.

“However, you understand why we need proof before we let his Mother know, don't you?”

Harry nods, just waiting for it now.

“That's why I've asked your Head of House here. She is the resident expert on animangi after all. We need to perform one quick spell and everything will be proven. If I may?” he asks.

Harry nods and pries Malfoy off his neck. He winces as claws scratch his skin.

“Careful Potter,” McGonagall tells him, “Cats are less than fond of being handled roughly.”

Harry glares at him as he sets him on the Headmaster's desk. “Here you are Sir.”

Dumbledore nods.

With a flick of her wand, McGonagall casts, “Animalis Revealre.”

Harry has never heard of the spell before, but even he can figure out what it's supposed to do. Some spells seem closer to English than others. Not that the spells are true Latin. He's heard Hermione rant about it enough times. Apparently it's changed and evolved over the years so that it's almost become a new language. It endlessly frustrates her.

Harry waits, but nothing happens. The sinking feeling in his stomach increases. “Is something supposed to happen – quickly?” he asks tentatively.

Dumbledore looks at Harry, still twinkling at him. “In the case of an animagus, yes. As the name suggests, a light should surround the animal in question. As nothing has happened, that means that sadly you have not found Mr Malfoy. But it appears you have found something great nonetheless. Or he has found you rather.”

Harry subtly digs his nails into his palm to keep him from lashing out. “And what is that Headmaster?” he asks.

“A natural familiar my boy. Not everyone is blessed enough to have one.”

“Natural familiar?” He's never heard of that. Not that is a terrible surprise. He's no Hermione after all. “But I already have a familiar. What about Hedwig?”

“Ah, worry not. Hedwig is a fine owl and very loyal to you. But Hagrid chose her for you, did he not?”

Harry nods.

“A natural familiar chooses the witch or wizard in question, not the other way around. They tend to come around in a time of need. I would say that this is a good sign my boy. Clearly Magick is looking out for you now that the danger has increased.”

Harry wants nothing more to spit in Dumbledore's face. Natural familiar? More like natural git. As for this 'Magick' looking out for him... well, where was it for the first sixteen years of his life? The last five? It sounds like the Christian God in the Muggle world. Everything based on faith and coincidence and blind trust. As if a hundred other things couldn't explain it. Here appears to be the Wizarding World's equivalent.

Still it is rude to spit on other people's faith, no matter how much shite you think it is. So he refrains. That and McGonagall would probably eat him alive for doing it. He's more scared of her than Voldemort, if he is being honest. All Voldemort can do is kill him. McGonagall can do so much more.

Malfoy jumps back into his lap and Harry resists the urge to push him off. It will only end in blood after all – his.

“I will see that you have everything you require. Congratulations again my boy. Don't worry about mistaking him for Mr Malfoy himself. I can admit the coloring is remarkably similar. And they are smarter than many animals you are use to. An honest mistake. I know how stressed you must be feeling after everything you have went through. Try not to let it get to you,” he smiles gently.

As if that is any help to him at all. Harry nods, thinking that if he has to say something right now, he is going to be starting off the year with detentions. Several of them.

“I am sure you are tired after your long day so I will let you go back to your dorm now.”

Harry nods again. Malfoy curls himself around Harry's neck as he stands. “Headmaster. Professor. Good night,” he says and walks out.

“Potter,” McGonagall calls after him, “the password is scarlet pride.”

He waves a hand in thanks and leaves, escaping down the stairs. On his way to the dorm he mutters to himself, cursing his luck. Why did he ever think he could trust an adult? He can't. Not now. Not ever. All they do is let him down. That the spell doesn't work means less than nothing to him. Malfoy is a Slytherin. Slytherins are sneaky like that. He probably planned for it. Well he'll show them. He'll show them all.

He also finds out how bloody hard it can be to walk with a cat wrapped around your neck. He has to adjust his posture and gait to accommodate for the extra weight. If he doesn't Malfoy lets him know he is unbalanced. Mainly by use of his claws. He growls under his breath. Why him? Why is it always him?

He sees his friends are already by the fireplace when he walks in. He picks Malfoy up, ignoring the annoyed yowl and additional scratches and dumps him in Hermione's lap without a word. There, see how he likes that one. Serves him right for being such a menace to her all these years. Going up to their dorm, he rummages through his trunk. “Ah ha!” he cries when he finds it.

“What is it mate?” Ron asks and then sees, “The Marauders Map? Does this mean Dumbledore didn't believe you either?”

Harry ignores him as he says. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” The map appears and he searches, finding his friends easily. And there, right among them, is the name Malfoy. Just Malfoy, but Harry thinks that's proof enough.

Ron looks less than convinced though. “Harry,” he points and there, in a corner of their common room is Crookshanks. “It names pets that way. Recon since you named him Malfoy, that's the name that showed up.”

“That's ridiculous,” Harry complains, “What if I changed his name to Cowslip Candy Lord or something stupid like that?”

Ron looks like he is trying not to laugh. “Really?”

“It's suppose to be ridiculous. That's the point,” he says reasonable, “But yes. That's what I decided to name him – Cowslip Candy Lord. And see? It's still Malfoy.”

“Right, but do you _really_ think your cat is Cowslip Candy Lord?” he laughs as he says it, “or Malfoy still?”

“Well of course he's Malfoy! That's the whole point. It doesn't matter what I call him, he is still going to be Malfoy,” he says crossly.

“Whatever you say mate. Now come down and tell us what Dumbledore said.”

Harry glares, but puts the map away and follows him down. As he sits down in front of the couch, he sees a sight he never thought he would see. Malfoy, playing with a string that Hermione is swinging around for him. His glare intensifies. Oh now he's just trying to make Harry look bad. And sucking up. No surprise there, Malfoy is good at that.

“What was that about?” she asks.

“Harry went to check the-”

“Shut it,” Harry hisses, “Do you want Malfoy to find out about it? He's going to learn enough secrets as is without you blurting everything out.”

The others give him a look. Some look exasperated – Ron and Hermione. Some look worried – Neville. And some are clearly laughing at him – Ginny. To add insult to injury, Malfoy comes over and starts to knead his lap before laying down.

“Anyways,” Ron continues, “He went to check to see if Malfoy really is Malfoy or not, but it's one name and since he named that cat Malfoy,” he shrugs.

“I've changed my mind. His name is now Cowslip Candy Lord,” he announces.

Malfoy digs a paw into him, not even paying Harry any attention as he does. Typical.

“What?” Ginny asks, laughing.

“Don't ask,” Ron tells her, rolling his eyes.

“Boys,” Hermione mutters just a little too loudly to be to herself. “I can get you what you need since you don't have supplies,” she offers, “I always bring extra for Crookshanks, just in case.”

“Thanks, but Dumbledore already told me he would cover it.” Then he tells them about what happened in the office. “So _they_ don't believe me either,” he finishes, complaining.

Hermione's eyes had lit up both at the mention of natural familiars and Magick. She nods at the spell McGonagall used too. “Fascinating,” she says, “I've only read a little bit about natural familiars, but I do know it is supposed to be an honor to receive one. They are meant to provide comfort and balance in times of need. No one really seems to know where they come from or how they are born or anything. They just seem to appear. No wonder Malfoy acts so smart.”

“He acts so smart because he's actually Malfoy, not a natural familiar,” Harry tells her.

“Don't you think you should trust Dumbledore?” Neville asks.

“Yes he should. There isn't a way to counteract that spell,” Hermione says.

“That you know of,” Harry mutters irritably.

Ginny pats his head. “Don't worry Harry,” she smiles mischievously when he turns his glare onto her, “I'm sure you and your new kitty cat will get along just fine. He's such a handsome boy.” She bends down and scratches behind his ears.

Malfoy purrs.

Suck up. Malfoy is such a suck up. How else did he end up being in charge of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad? He probably learned it from Lucius. He bought the Minster after all. There were many people he bought before he was caught. The Ministry is so corrupt.

They clearly take his silence as agreement because they change the subject. Or maybe they just don't want to listen anymore. It all amounts to the same thing. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. They don't believe him. Just like no one believed last year. They all thought he was crazy. They probably think he's crazy now. He doesn't have their support. Like fourth year. At least there isn't the same amount of anger and resentment. And they are talking to him still. Like second year maybe? A little bit? No, everyone was just afraid of him then.

Wow, sometimes he forgets just how much this school has turned their back on him. It's absurd really, but that's his life. Dangerous and absurd. And lucky – just not always the good kind.

“We should probably go to bed now,” Hermione says after a while.

The others nod in agreement.

Harry stands and nods to them, but doesn't say a word. His thoughts are weighing him down now. Words feel like too much effort. Why bother when no one will listen to him?

I must not tell lies.

Funny how he isn't a liar. That's never really been one of his problems. He can lie to survive, but other then that he doesn't make a habit of it. He was telling the truth then and he is telling the truth now, but no one believes him. He thinks about a story he read once, before he came to Hogwarts.

There was a girl who could see the future. But whenever she told anyone, no one believed her. Cassandra. She was likely a witch, now that Harry thinks about it. She was probably real. That just makes her story even more sad. He fears that is how his is going to end. It's hard to believe in happy endings when the whole world is against you.

Malfoy stretches out on his bed while Harry gets ready for bed. After he is done, he tries to kick him off, but it doesn't work. No matter how many times he tries, Malfoy keeps coming back.

“Just give it up mate,” Ron advises.

Easy for him to say, he doesn't have to share a bed with a Slytherin. His rival. And someone who will never let him live it down, if he finds out about Harry's nightmares. “Fine,” Harry grumbles, seeing a losing battle. He gets in and pulls the curtains, “but don't whine to me about getting a bad night's rest if I wake you up,” he warns.

Malfoy ends up on the pillow next to his head. Of course he does. Git.

Harry casts the silencing spell around his bed and closes his eyes. Maybe he'll get lucky. Maybe he won't have any nightmares. Or maybe, if he does, he won't wake Malfoy up. Right. He sighs and lays on his side, turning his back away from him.

Who knows, maybe he'll get even luckier and this will all be just a dream. Malfoy will be gone when he wakes up and everything will go back to normal. He snorts then. Right. And Voldemort will start ballet lessons and serenading Snape. Ugh.

He sighs again and tries to go to sleep.

His luck is as good as ever though, and he wakes up with a jolt, Sirius' name on his lips. Burying his hands into his hair, he gives a fierce tug, trying to get the image out of his head. It's no good though. It's still there, no matter how hard he pulls. He wonders how loud he screamed this time. His throat is sore, so loud enough. It always is. That's when he becomes aware of purring.

He looks down and sees that Malfoy is in his lap. “Bet you love this, don't you?” he asks bitterly, “The great Harry Potter, taken down by a nightmare. You're going to love spreading _that_ all over the school. Just like you spread how crazy I was last year. Well I like to see how sane you are after Voldemort invading your head all the time.”

He probably shouldn't be saying this. He's only giving Malfoy more information to use against him. But it kind of slips out somehow. Maybe it's because he's not use to Malfoy looking like a cat, even if he knows it's him. Maybe it's the purring – it's surprisingly comforting. Maybe it's simply because he just needs to rant to _someone_.

Collapsing back down onto the bed with a huff, he rubs his eyes. No more sleep tonight. He can never fall asleep again after one of those nightmares. Or any nightmare really. The one featuring Sirius' death is just the newest one in a long line of events that haunt his night.

Malfoy obviously takes that as permission because he stretches out along Harry's torso. His purring, if anything, increases.

He rolls his eyes. “You're well pleased with yourself, aren't you? Well don't complain to me when I end up tossing you off. You're the one sharing a bed with an insomniac.”

The only sign Malfoy heard him is a lazy flick of his tail. Right.

No use staring at the ceiling. Harry closes his eyes. He should get up and go down to the common room to do something productive. Read one of his books or something. But he doesn't feel like moving. It seems like too much work. And effort. And definitely too much energy that he doesn't feel like he has. Everything seems like so much work anymore. Living is hard. Why does no one ever talk about how hard living is? It's exhausting, some days more than others.

And really, he doesn't need to. This is the first year the Dursleys let him keep his trunk, so he was able to finish his summer homework without having to finish the night before its due. He's proud of it, almost. As if homework really matters in the middle of a war.

So that leaves him alone with his thoughts and Malfoy. Merlin, what a combination. Absentmindedly, he finds himself petting Malfoy. He doesn't even realize he is doing it at first. When he does, he doesn't bother to stop. Why even try? Malfoy is going to make his life hell no matter what he does at this point. It doesn't even matter if he really does do something or not either really. As soon as he changes back, it's going to be all over the bloody school. Again.

Letting his thoughts drift, he never knows when he finally falls asleep again.

:::

The next day, as if to make up for the night before, starts off rather pleasant. He is still stuck with Malfoy, of course. And he is still insisting on riding on Harry's shoulders instead of going off and doing his own thing. And no one still believes that he's Malfoy and not a cat.

But he is now in Potions. He can admit he is rather excited about that. Potions have always fascinated him, even if Snape basically killed that. He just hopes this means he doesn't kill DADA for him now. Potions is an interest. DADA is essential for his survival.

And he has to have Slughorn in class now. Hopefully he isn't as creepy teaching as he is any other time. He still makes Harry's skin crawl. Maybe he'll be better at actually teaching them though. Then he snorts to himself. Right. As if that is going to happen. Adults are not to be trusted.

Alright, so maybe this morning is only marginally better than yesterday.

But then he gets the old book that Ron didn't want and it turns out to already have instructions in it. Instructions that work and work better than the official ones. He ends up winning Slughorn's Felix Felicis. Hermione is upset and confused, but he doesn't care.

It turns out Slughorn is also fine with Malfoy attending class with him. In fact, he thinks Malfoy makes him all the more interesting to Slughorn, being a 'natural familiar' and all. Because of course that got spread all over the school overnight. Just another reason for people to stare at him. Like he needs another. He's already their Chosen One and their Saviour. Now they think Malfoy is a sign that he is going to win the war.

Ridiculous. People are ridiculous. People are also sheep. Harry may not want them to suffer under Voldemort's rein, but that doesn't mean he particularly likes them either.

It's likely a good thing that all the Hogwarts population – students and staff both – seem so enamored with Malfoy because he won't leave him the bloody hell alone. Ever. He lays on him in class, he sleeps on his books as he is trying to read, insists on eating next to him at meals. More than once, until Hermione taught him the spell to get rid of them, he has turned in essays with paw prints on them.

About the only time he gets any alone time is when he goes into the loo. Then Malfoy will wait on his bed. It brings up the question of when does Malfoy use the, er, litter box, but he finds he doesn't want to think about too hard. It's too weird to consider.

Hermione seems to have semi adopted him himself and Malfoy gives no objections. Now _that's_ weird too. Even weirder really. Or maybe it isn't. Malfoy is use to being the center of attention after all. Always in the middle of a crowd. His title isn't the Ice Prince of Slytherin for nothing. But Malfoy has always hated Hermione, so why hang around her?

Maybe, a voice in the back of his head suggests, he really is hiding from Voldemort. Maybe he doesn't want to join the madman. He must have seen him by now. He could have changed his mind about wanting to serve him. Voldemort's face is certainly enough to make anyone question their loyalty. This could be his way of running away. Not choosing the Light, but not choosing the Dark either. Maybe he's finally breaking away from the belief's he's been taught all of his life and choosing to do the right thing now.

Or maybe, a more practical voice adds, he's sucking up so that he ends up on the right side if – when – Harry ends up winning. Because he has to win. The alternative doesn't bear thinking about. So he's inserting himself with the people who will be most useful for him in the future. That way, he is still on top of the social chain.

Then again he's a Slytherin. It's probably both.

But Hermione even bought Malfoy a snitch designed specifically for cats. And of course Malfoy loves the thing. He is thankful to her, because it's a way for Harry to finish his work in peace. But at the same time, she doesn't take this for proof it's Malfoy. He doesn't know why, Malfoy is a seeker after all.

(“See, it's obviously Malfoy. Look how he goes after the snitch like it's instinct.”

“Honestly Harry, that's because it _is_. He's a cat, that's what they do. Crookshanks has the same one, only his is a bird. I only got the snitch for the irony of it.”

Gee. Thanks Mione. He really appreciates the support.)

Honestly, the only person who doesn't seem to be taken with Malfoy is Snape. And that isn't really a surprise. He is still as contrary as he was in Potions. But he is learning. Harry can't deny it. He just might be the best Professor he has ever had, Remus excluded. Then again, once you compare those other Professors, it's not as much as a compliment as it sounds.

“Potter, simply because all of your other Professors allow this... beast in their class does not mean that I will. Kindly remove it.”

Obviously Snape doesn't think Malfoy is a natural familiar either. He shrugs. “You tell him Professor. He's your snake, not mine.”

Snape was less than impressed with the answer. He showed that when he assigned Harry his first detention of the year. Joke ended up being on him thought. Malfoy can with him and ran amok while Harry did lines. The kind that didn't make his hand bleed, thank Merlin for small mercies. Snape may be a bastard, but at least he's never used a quill like _that_.

The Headmaster stepped in then in any case and gave Harry blanket permission to bring Malfoy with him wherever he wanted, so it hardly mattered. Snape was infuriated. Malfoy was smug. Harry, at this point, just wants this year to be over already.

But as it turns out, Malfoy can be useful when he wants to be.

When Harry has a nightmare and feels too drained to move, Malfoy will climb on him and purr, bumping Harry's hand until he pets him. Sometimes he can even go back to sleep after that. On the nights he wakes up voice raw from screaming and body shaking, fleeing from bed and thoughts alike, Malfoy comes with him. He trots by his side as they wander the halls. He acts as a look out, warning when he hears someone coming and distracting Mrs Norris if she gets too close.

Strangely enough, it never feels like Malfoy is laughing at him when he helps with the nightmares. Nor does he pity him. He seems... understanding, if anything. It's odd. He would have expected the exact opposite honestly. The Golden Boy, plagued by nightmares? What a laugh. Maybe it's because he wakes Malfoy up too. Only Malfoy can go back to sleep during the day. Harry can't.

He's even helped Harry in the library. In a fit of curiosity, he has decided to investigate the changes in the Half Blood Prince's Potion book. Nothing else is happening this year. So he searches for Potions books that would explain _why_. He soon realizes just how out of his depths he feels. He's going to have to start at the basics if he wants to get anywhere.

He is browsing the shelves when Malfoy sits up, claws digging into Harry's neck to stay on.

“Hey Malfoy,” he complains.

Malfoy doesn't listen, stretching up and resting his paws on the shelf above him. He bats at one of the books.

“Alright, yes, fine. I'll get the book just get back down,” he grumbles. Bossed around by a cat. Unbelievable. Or really, totally believable. This is _his_ life after all. And as it turns out, Malfoy is right. This is exactly what he needs.

The book itself is huge and thick. But it explains everything about the basics of Potions. And Harry means _everything_. He is convinced he could use this book as a murder weapon. But, using it as a reference, he can understand why the Half Prince changed what he changed. Fascinating.

Harry adds all of this as proof to Malfoy trying to insert himself on Harry's good side.

He finds other spells in there too. Spells he sneaks to the Room of Requirement to test. It helpfully provides dummies for him to try them. Some are relatively harmless, like the one that turns the dummy upside down. And then there are ones, like the one ominously labeled 'for enemies' that tears the dummy apart from a multitude of cuts.

That one is like watching a train wreck. It's horrifying, but he can't seem to look away from the damage he just caused. It's like the cutting curse, multiplied by ten at least. For enemies indeed. He can't think of anyone he hates that much to use that spell on. Voldemort maybe, but...

So maybe Hermione's right about being careful with this book. But part of Harry just thinks she's jealous. All of his Potions turn out better than hers and he's at the top of the class now. And he's likely being petty in thinking that, but he can't help it. She doesn't seem to understand that he really _is_ learning. Not in a traditional way, but he is.

Malfoy is useful in deflecting Slughorn too. He can only use Quidditch for an excuse so many times. Same for homework. So he gets dragged along to those meetings more times than he wants to. It's another kind of nightmare. At least Ginny is still invited, so he has her to talk to. And, when he needs a date to the horrid Christmas party, he asks Luna. He feels bad for not talking to her this year. He forgot how much he liked her.

And she might be the only person who believes him about Malfoy. Maybe. He thinks she does anyways. She started talking about Three Winged Snufflezores in a way that sounded promising.

So overall, as the year passes, he finds himself getting more comfortable with Malfoy. He feels as if he is being lulled into a false sense of security sometimes. Other times he really does think he and Malfoy are becoming friends, as strange as that sounds. Just because Malfoy can't talk doesn't mean he is expressionless. He can get his point across very well even without words.

The most interesting one to date is when Harry asks him, “Are you really hiding from Voldemort?” He's pretty sure the answer is a resounding yes, you idiot.

Of course that doesn't mean he still isn't a git at times. Because he definitely is. And a spoiled brat. It's a good thing he has that snitch to play with, or all that weight would hurt Harry's back and neck carrying it around. He's already added some extra muscle there as is.

And then the end of the year comes. Harry thinks that for once, he might actually have a peaceful one. It has been so far. Obviously he should have known better.

At the end of his sixth year, the war comes to Harry.

The day had started out like any other. It was a week before exams and everyone was going through their study frenzy. Hermione was driving everyone around her mad. Ron was dragged into studying reluctantly. Harry was trying to avoid it all, taking shelter with Luna. It was actually peaceful for all that she is studying for her OWLs. Those memories alone are enough to make him shudder. Ugh. He hated that test. And everyone is always saying that the NEWTs are worse. He's not looking forward to taking them.

If he lives long enough to take them that is. Who knows, maybe Voldemort will do Harry and favor and he won't have to. He'll be dead, but that doesn't seem too important right now. Merlin does he ever hate exams. They are a special kind of torture.

Malfoy has taken to driving him nuts as well. He doesn't have as much time for him, no one does right now, and it's showing. He's been especially prissy, getting in Harry's way and annoying him for attention. Bloody git. Just because _he_ doesn't have to study doesn't mean everyone around him is so lucky. Maybe there is something to hiding as a cat for a year or two.

But then he feels the castle rumble and instantly knows something is wrong. Hogwarts doesn't shake like that. A cat patronus races by saying, “Death Eater attack all students please go to the nearest common room,” before going through a wall.

Harry and Luna exchange looks. There is no way Harry is going to go back to his common room – or Ravenclaw's technically since it's closest – to hide. Not now. He's not a coward. More importantly than that, this is his fight. They are going to need all the help they can get. Luna has the same fierce look in her eyes and nods. Harry knows that she's in.

“Right,” he turns to Malfoy who had been obviously startled. His eyes are wide, pupils blown so that the silver is barely visible, “go hide somewhere if you aren't going to fight. Stay safe you git.”

Malfoy races off.

That's done, onto the next. He pulls out his wand and says “Expecto Patronum!” His stag appears. “Go to Ron and Hermione and tell them to get the DA together and ready. Ron is in charge since I'm too far away to meet you in time. Don't worry I have Luna with me.” He nods and his stag charges off.

He looks and sees Luna has her wand out. “Ready to kick some arse?” he asks.

She smiles. “The solardews are with us today,” she assures.

Harry doesn't know what those are either. But judging by just how _vicious_ Luna's smile is, he's taking it as a good thing. “Right,” he nods and leaves the empty classroom where they had been studying.

It's quiet in the hall. Eerily quiet. It's never this silent even when Harry goes wandering at night. There's always something around to make noise, even if it's just a sleeping portrait. Now there is nothing. It's as if the castle itself is holding its breath.

They round a corner and run into the first group of Death Eaters. The battle is on then.

It's different having Luna at his back rather then Ron or Hermione. He is use to their fighting styles and they way they move. Luna is different, but no less lethal for it. She moves almost as if she is dancing. Normally she tends to give the 'head in the clouds, walking on air' impression. Now she might be walking on air, but her head is in the fight.

As Harry lets his instincts take over, firing spell after spell, she dances around him, covering his back as he covers hers. He also notices that while everyone is shouting their spells, even Harry at times, although he's finally gotten the hang of most nonverbal spells, Luna isn't. At all. Her spells are completely nonverbal. It's impressive as hell.

Harry makes a note, that if they survive this, he'll have to see if Luna will help tutor him in them. Just like at the Department of Mysteries, there is no 'Loony Lovegood' here, but a powerful warrior. He is on glad that she is no his side right now.

They finish and move on. Harry's not sure if they are alive or simply unconscious and right now, he's not sure he cares. He is _pissed_. Hogwarts is his home. This is where he belongs. Not where he is safest, no matter how secure the school is suppose to be, the years have shown him that. But this is the first place he ever found where he could fit in – or almost fit in. It is where he found his first friends and freedom of a kind and happiness.

Hogwarts is his home. And he'll be damned if he lets anyone take it from him.

It doesn't take long for he and Luna to find a rhythm. She takes down a Death Eater and he covers her back. He jumps and she dives. She twists left and he goes right. They are in sync now and it is glorious. There has always been part of him that enjoys the fight. Not the violence and the killing, but the duel, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. It makes the wild part of him feel free. It's his inner Gryffindor he supposes.

Just like his inner Slytherin – the part he doesn't like to think about much, but still knows is there – takes a grim satisfaction when his enemy goes down. That he was able to outwit them and come out on top. He is more than his wand.

Still he has spent more time nurturing his Gryffindor side then his Slytherin one. It's helped him survive so far. Besides, what is more Slytherin than wearing a mask? No one sees you coming then. Luna is a marvelous example of that.

But then the pain in Harry's head hits him so intensely that he drops to the floor. His hand flies up to cover his scar. Fortunately Luna is able to take care of the last Death Eater himself and pull him away. Carefully she removes his hand and both see that it is covered in blood.

“He's here,” Harry says unnecessarily. He doesn't have to say who is here, just like he didn't have to make the announcement in the first place. Luna knows what the scar can do when Voldemort is near. She's one of the few people he told.

Her eyes are solemn as she nods. No words are needed.

Harry takes a deep breath, fortifying himself. If Voldemort is here, that is where he has to be. It is time to finish this once and for all. No more games. No more playing cat and mouse year after year. Voldemort has crossed a line today, coming here. And Harry intends to show him just how badly he has crossed it.

“Feel up to battling the King Snake today?” he asks. He won't make Luna come with him if she doesn't want to. He would never force that on anyone.

But all she does is nod. “Lady Hogwarts is angry. One of her lost children is attacking her charges. She will guide you.”

It's the most clear answer he has ever gotten from her. And also the most revealing. Harry has always suspected, after the first initial shock of meeting her, that she is connected to something else. Something people can't normally see. Maybe a Seer, maybe not. But definitely not crazy and more knowing than people assume. “Let's go,” he says, standing up.

Rounding the next corner, they almost run into two people that he honestly didn't expect to see here – the Malfoys. Which is stupid really. He knows that at least Lucius has the Dark Mark. And that he's escaped from Azkaban. He's not sure about Narcissa, but she has to be a supporter at the very least, if not more. The four of them stare at each other. It doesn't look as if they were expecting him either. It doesn't even look as if Lucius has a wand.

Finally Narcissa asks, “Are you going to finish this?”

Harry nods with more confidence then he feels.

Carefully she walks over to him and kisses him on the forehead, right next to his bleeding scar, “A Mother's blessing on you,” she murmurs.

Harry's not sure what that is, but he feels the effects of it. It is a warm, tingly feeling that washes over him. He gets the feeling he just missed something very important, but he doesn't know what. He nods and runs off in the direction Luna takes him. She notices she is smiling.

“What?” he asks.

“Today is a day of new beginnings as well as endings,” she answers.

“I'll take your word for it,” he says, still feeling odd. Sometimes he thinks he'll never understand this world he lives in. There's always something new to it.

But then there's no time to think because the pain is getting worse and then there, at the end of the hall, is Voldemort himself. “Harry Potter,” he hisses.

Surprisingly he isn't completely surrounded by his followers as per his normal. He must be feeling confident today. There is only one and she makes his stomach turn with hate – Bellatrix. She smiles cruelly at him. “Hello Baby Potty, are you ready to die today? My Master is here to win.” There is a crazed look in her eyes.

Luna stands beside him, eyes locked on her opponent. It's clear what they have to do here.

“There's still time Harry Potter. Give up and I can make your death a painless one.”

Harry snorts. “How very reassuring,” he says dryly.

“I have always known that one of these days, that mouth of yours would get you in trouble. Today is that day. Avada Kedavra!”

They leap apart to avoid it. Luna takes on Bellatrix while Harry begins his duel with Voldemort. If he thought he had an adrenaline rush before, it was nothing compared to now. Every detail stands out. All the colors seem extra vibrant. This is life on the brink of the extreme.

Funny enough, he can hear Snape in his head, telling him what to do. How to fight and when to dodge and how to take advantage of his opponent's weaknesses. There was an entire week focused on dueling and how to win. Harry had listened intently, committing everything he said to memory.

Even more, he remembers the essay they had to do. And the extra work he had to do for said essay. He had complained at the time, even though he knew how useful it would be. Now he couldn't be happier about it.

It's still bloody weird though, hearing Snape in his head like this.

Voldemort still primarily relies on the Killing Curse and the Cruciatus Curse. Fortunately neither has hit him yet. But he's slowly branching out, using other Darker spells. He's holding his own still, but he's mainly on the defense. Voldemort, as much as he hates it, still has the upper hand. Harry has managed a couple lucky hits of his own, but that is it.

He's getting desperate, trying to get spells through Voldemort's guard. Insane he might be, but he also has decades of experience and learning on Harry. But that doesn't matter. None of that matters. He is going to win this. He has to or Voldemort's face is the last thing he is going to see before he dies. And wouldn't that be an ugly sight?

Then he hears a cry and Luna goes down. Bellatrix cackles in delight.

“No! Luna!” Harry shouts, turning to look. Which is stupid, but he can't help it.

Voldemort takes advantage of his distraction – of course he does – and presses in. Bellatrix, meanwhile, stalks forward to finish Luna off. If she isn't already dead.

Something in Harry snaps. No. Not his friend. Not in front of him. _Not again_. For enemies that voice in the back of his mind whispers and Harry doesn't think. He reacts. “Ventus,” he shouts, using the wind as a brief distraction. It hits Voldemort straight in the face. And then, “Sectumsempra,” he shouts with all his might.

At the same time a spell shoots over Harry's shoulder and hits the wall. He jumps out of the way. He turns and see Luna, wand raised and Bellatrix dead at her feet. Turning again, he sees she brought the wall down on top of Voldemort.

The only sound is their harsh panting for long moments. And then Harry cautiously approaches Voldemort's body. Under the rubble he can see that his body looks just like that dummy he cast it on – shredded.

He staggers back, the force of it hitting him. He's done it. He's actually done it. Voldemort is dead. And Harry was the one who killed him. It doesn't seem real.

Luna touches his elbow. “Come Harry, there is still work to do.”

Harry nods, agreeing. He follows her without a thought. Nothing seems real right now. All he can see is Voldemort's body, bloody, torn and covered in rock. Luna keeps her hand on his elbow, anchoring him. They don't see anymore Death Eaters as they make their way to the Great Hall.

Inside all of the Professors, the Order and all those who clearly fought are inside. And every single one of them turns to them when they enter. They all seem frozen, waiting. But Harry can't seem to get the words out of his mouth. They are stuck in his throat.

“Voldemort is dead,” Luna announces in a loud clear voice.

“Mate, you did it!” Ron cries, breaking the silence.

That starts it. The Hall seems to explode with cheers. Harry is about knocked to the ground when Ron and Hermione run over to him, desperately hugging him. He hugs them back, despite the shock he still feels. He knows this is real. The rest of the DA crowds around him, talking excitedly. And then the Order and the Professors come. The Aurors, late to the party, start trying to push their way through. It's madness.

Luna, amazing person that she is, takes over. She tells their side of the story from the beginning to the end. He vaguely notices that she leaves out just _what_ spell Harry used to kill Voldemort and feels thankful. He doubts it would be a Ministry approved spell. No matter that they would be willing to overlook it today of all days, he doesn't want to deal with it. Ever.

For enemies. Well he used it on his enemy. And now he is dead. It still doesn't sound any more believable yet. Maybe after he sleeps for about a week or so. Sleeping sounds good right now. He is exhausted.

It's not to be yet. There are questions upon questions upon questions that Luna and Harry and everyone has to answer.

He doesn't even notice when Ron disappears at some point, only to return with a cat in his arms. “Look who I found mate,” he says proudly.

But Harry only blinks at him. “Congratulations?” he asks more than says.

“It's Malfoy,” Ron says.

Harry frowns at him. “Ron, that looks nothing like Malfoy. Why would you even think that?” To be fair, Harry can see why. The fur is blonde, but it's not the shocking almost-white blonde that Malfoy has. And it's eyes are relatively the same color, but they're more grey than silver. So yes, while that cat is similar to Malfoy, it is clearly _not_ Malfoy.

“Of course it is,” he insists. He sets the cat down, “Malfoy go say histo Harry,” he urges.

The cat runs into Ginny's arms instead.

“See,” Harry tells him.

“Honestly mate, maybe he just doesn't like you anymore.”

“Or maybe you have the wrong cat,” Harry says. He knows what Malfoy looks like and that's obviously not him. Ginny looks happy though, cooing over him. Beside him, Luna is smiling secretly. He appreciates it.

But then, as if his thoughts have summoned him, Malfoy walks into the Hall. In human form. “Potter,” he greets, “I've heard you missed me so much that you named your familiar after me,” he smirks and then looks pointedly at Ginny, “Bad luck with that.”

Harry shrugs. “He's clearly no you.”

“I _am_ rather irreplaceable,” he agrees arrogantly. The Aurors descend upon him then, asking him where he has been. He starts explaining dramatically, hand gestures and all. Harry can just make out, “Of course I didn't want to serve the Dark Lord. Have you seen him? He doesn't have a _nose_. How could I serves someone like that?”

He rolls his eyes. Typical. Seeing that everyone is suitably distracted, he slips away and heads to Gryffindor Tower, intent on sleep. All he manages to do is take off his shoes and glasses before collapsing under the covers.

He is already asleep when he feels something jump up on the bed beside him. Cracking his eye open confirms it is Malfoy that joined him. “You know,” he says hoarsely, voice thick with sleep still, “people are going to talk if you keep sleeping with me like this. We _have_ been sharing a bed all year.”

Malfoy gives him an unimpressed look and curls up on Harry's chest.

“You owe me so much after this,” he says, eyes already closing again.

Malfoy purrs in response.

 

 


End file.
